Our housemate, Michelle, has two dogs. One of them is very sensible and doesn’t bark too much; the other is a bit on the daft side of the spectrum and barks a lot. Basically, he’s one of those dogs that are wired to think everything is terrifying (seriously, he thinks my adorable #zombieraccoon hat is the most terrifying thing in the world!) and has adopted alarm barking as his way of trying to deal with spooky noises (like people sneezing upstairs).
I don’t want him to not bark. After all, if someone really is trying to break into our home, he should bark. As such, I’ve taught him a useful word: “Enough.” When he’s barkin’ his fool head off, as it were, any one of us can call out “Enough, Apollo!” and he’ll either shut up entirely or switch to grumbly-barking (the very soft, under-the-breath barking some dogs do), which is fine. He gets a, “Good boy!” as soon as he’s quiet.
I’m telling you all this by way of getting around to my point. I want February to quit dishing out nasty weather. I used to be winter-hardy, now I’m not. I’m sick of grey skies and chilly rain (snow would be vastly preferable). I’m recovering well from that whole bronchitis thing, and I’d like it to stay that way.
Fortunately, February (“the month of fevers,” in case you were wondering about the etymology of its name) is almost over. March is full of new things to be excited about.
I’m not setting a mileage goal for March. I don’t think I’m going to set another one until it’s time for the July 500. Frankly, it appears to be a bit of a jinx for me. This doesn’t mean I don’t plan to rack up the miles like they’re going out of style, though.
I’m happy with my progress for this year thus far, anyway. I’m just ready for February — which is to say, for our half-baked Kentucky winter — to be over.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go finish stuffing my face in preparation for tomorrow’s mileage (which will not be enormous, and is really an excuse; I simply feel like stuffing my face tonight).